


made for better things

by preromantics



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-08
Updated: 2012-05-08
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The vaguest GOT-inspired sort of AU thing ever. / At first, the only reasonable explanation Kurt can come up with is that she's actually killed the man limply laying over her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	made for better things

The worst part about letting Athena go hunt is the waiting; Kurt is not the most patient of people, and coupled with the fact he's prone to worrying about those close to him, the waiting is always awful. 

One of the best things among many about Athena is that she's just as prone to avoid the people in the village as Kurt is. Also that she knows not to bring back the things she's killed as presents to Kurt, even though that seems to be in her nature -- he's not a big fan of dead animals and blood all over the stone staircase leading up to his room and neither are the people who clean up that sort of thing.

Which is why, considering the fact Kurt knows Athena makes a point to hunt miles away in the wastelands, he's a tiny bit shocked when she comes up the stairs to his room, her nails clicking on the stone so he knows she's coming before he sees her, dragging a human up with her, half draped over her back. 

At first, the only reasonable explanation Kurt can come up with is that she's actually killed the man limply laying over her back. He's seen the damage she can do to other people, to those who threaten or come at Kurt with ill intent; she's a much better protector and certainly better conversation than any of the generally oafish men with swords his father sends with him on journeys outside of their town. He has never known her to kill someone, though, especially not someone actively looking to harm him.

Slowly the man slips off her back as she stretches forward, lying limp on the furs he has on the floor beside his bed for the beginning of winter. Kurt can see a bit of crusted blood on the side of his neck, though he can not see his face or tell his age. Before Kurt can move forward to inspect Athena for wounds or inspect the man who definitely looks dead, as much as Kurt hopes he isn't, Athena gets to him first, leaning her head down and lapping at the blood on his neck. It's not aggressive at all, and Kurt is further puzzled when she lets out a small whimper, rolling him to the side with her snout and paws. 

Athena turns to Kurt for the first time since coming up the stairs and whines at him, padding forward to nudge at his hip with her nose and then turning back to the man on the floor. Kurt has rarely seen her so distressed in the four years he's had her since rescuing her from hunters as a cub.

"What is it?" he asks her, reaching down to scratch at the wide space between her ears. "Who is it?" he adds, wishing not for the first time that she could respond to him. She's closer to him than most humans, never leaving his side unless she needs space and can't stand being inside the castle (Kurt can't blame her at all for that, and goes with her when he can), but he has never seen her display worry or affection for anyone but him and occasionally his father and maybe very rarely his step-brother over the last year. 

As Kurt studies her narrowed eyes the man on the floor groans and turns, looking younger than Kurt expected when he looks down and actually studies him. Athena is at his side in a flash, staring at him with her intelligent, unflinching eyes and then licking his face to wake up further. 

The room is silent for a few minutes save for the crackling of Kurt's fire and occasional small noises from Athena, somewhat like the ones she used to make as a wolf pup when Kurt would lay with her and pet her and tell her all about his troubles. After a while of nudging and licking on Athena's part and staring on Kurt's, the young man on finally opens his eyes, heavily and slowly until they are wide and staring at Athena above him. Kurt knows she makes an imposing picture, and although the village knows she is mostly domesticated and fiercely loyal to Kurt, many still shy away from her as he walks with her through town. She is a direwolf after all, an enemy to man, a born huntress. 

"Hey, girl," the man says, his voice cracked and rough and almost enough to make Kurt jump back. He reaches up slowly in a way that looks painful and tangles a hand in the long fur of Athena's mane and she reaches down to lick his face again. 

Kurt is more curious than ever and he steps forward carefully, years of learning to be careful and watch out for potential traps, people who wish to kill him lurking every so often around him -- part of his inherited title, his future job; not one he particularly wants, but one he can live with, maybe. "Who are you?" he asks, ignoring the impulse that would rather he ask after the mysterious man's health. 

For the first time he looks up at Kurt, turning to his side too quickly and groaning at the motion, obviously more hurt than just the blood seems to imply. Athena hovers over him, protective, just as she does when Kurt is sick in bed. "Blaine," he says, voice still as dry and cracked as before, "Blaine Anderson."

Kurt's eyes widen and he looks to Athena in shock, hoping she understands. "Anderson?" he repeats, not bothering to school his features out of shock, "how?" 

On the floor, Blaine laughs out a dry sort of bark and then closes his eyes. Athena, sparing a glance at Kurt, lies down along his back on the floor. "Your wolf," he says, "that's how."

The message that the entire family of Andersons had been massacred had come down to Kurt's father only a week ago, and he had sent out the appropriate search parties along with the lords of the other nearby lands to check for any surviving Andersons, as well as search their lands for people still alive. It was rare that the people not under the King's jurisdiction from beyond the wastelands came to any of the outlying villages like the one Lord Anderson presided over, so the shock of hearing that they had come and killed the entire Lord's family and many of the town and village members hit the Hummels and surrounding families hard. 

The Lord Anderson, Kurt knew, was not a kind or particularly benevolent ruler of his lands. He had many enemies, enough that Kurt also knew the King had so far ruled out the possibility of war with the outlying lands, something he was glad for -- he did not need to see his father go off to war, however close he was to the King, nor did he need to see his step-brother or the few people he counted as friends go to die. 

"All of the Andersons are dead," Kurt says, slowly. "If you were a lord's son, wouldn't you have stayed behind to care for your remaining people?"

Blaine's eyes flash and widen. "I have never considered myself an Anderson by anything but birth," he says, breathing heavily with the words, "but I would never willfully desert the people in my father's lands."

Kurt considers him; his dark hair is matted down against his forehead in ringed curls, his linen shirt is torn in several places and his feet bare. Athena is still pressed against him, something protective in her gaze that strikes somewhere deep inside Kurt, far from jealousy. 

"Would you like something to drink and eat?" Kurt asks, carefully stepping forward. "The doctor?"

"No," Blaine says, strangely loud, "not a doctor -- no one. No one must know I am here until I can speak to the King."

Kurt frowns. "Athena is the strongest judge of character I know," he says, "I will not deny you a place to stay until you are well, but I will not be left in the dark."

"Athena," Blaine says softly, reaching behind himself and petting what fur he can reach. She is easily larger than him where he is curled up on the floor. "I did want to know her name."

"I saved her when she was a pup," Kurt says, though he doesn't own Blaine an explanation. 

"She is very strong," Blaine says, his voice dry and even grittier, "very brave; I should have guessed she was the storied wolf of Lord Hummel's son."

Kurt narrows his eyes but doesn't respond. "I'll get you that water and something soft to eat," he says. It takes him longer than usual to get down the stairs, considering the man in his room, considering Athena's behavior and all the unanswered-questions he must know as soon as Blaine is well enough to answer them. 

 

-

 

Though Kurt never agrees out loud to keep Blaine's presence a secret he does so anyway, setting him up in the far corner near the fire on a stacked bed of furs a bit larger than the stack he usually has set up for Athena to sleep on. 

It takes a few days for Blaine to heal enough on his own to sit up and after a week Kurt begins to take his dinner upstairs so they can eat together, waiting for Blaine to explain the circumstances under which Athena found him and brought him to Kurt. He isn't particularly sure why he's waiting for Blaine to start the conversation, he could just as easily ask or demand an explanation, but something in the careful way Blaine moves, in his consideration for Kurt's space and in the clear care he holds for Athena and she holds for him, makes Kurt wait.

"I was dying," Blaine says, a week and a half into his stay, a piece of bread paused halfway to his mouth. 

Kurt looks up from his stew, considering Blaine's face for a moment before putting it down on the raised edge of the fireplace. 

"When -- when they came for my family," he says, staring at a point beyond Kurt's shoulder, "I wasn't with them at dinner, even though we were celebrating my sister's imminent engagement to one of the King's younger sons. If I had been at that dinner I certainly would be dead, but they found me afterward."

He looks at Kurt briefly, something heavy around the lines of his eyes, too heavy for his age, and Kurt nods shortly to let him know he's listening. 

"I managed to escape, though I'm not sure how, a combination of circumstances, maybe, but I was badly injured. I made it as far as the forests that boarder our two lands in the north before the wastelands before I could go no further and your wolf found me."

"She has never attached herself or shown concern for anyone else until now," Kurt puts in, "I'm still not sure what she saw -- sees -- in you."

"I wish I knew what she saw in me as well," he says, "If she knew I was an Anderson son, I doubt she would have saved me on the basis of that. It's true your father doesn't like us, isn't it?"

Kurt shrugs noncommittally, it is true in some ways. They are political allies, two of the five lands that border the wastelands, but no one particularly cared for Lord Anderson and his ruthless rule, his prejudice and violence. Blaine laughs, low. 

"I do wish I knew what Athena saw in me that was worth saving," Blaine says, after a few moments of silence between them. He's looking at where she is laying between them in front of the fire, sleepily paying attention to their conversation with one narrowly opened eyes and alert ears. "Because I'd like to be able to see it in myself."

 

-

 

Kurt learns more about Blaine over the course of the next week as he heals more, able to sit up and start to walk small distances around Kurt's chamber. He learns of his disillusion with the government and the King, secret thoughts that Kurt and many share, and of his hatred of his family and what their name stands for through out the kingdom. 

Kurt learns that Blaine is as kind as he seems to be, his nature far from that of the Andersons. Athena hovers over him protectively, slowly giving him more space and leaving with Kurt when he must -- as two weeks meld into three, though, Kurt finds himself less enthused about having to leave his room for anything at all, knowing Blaine is there, waiting and reading through his books by the fire with Athena's head settled warm over his knee. 

Their conversation is much better than Kurt is used to with the majority of people he knows or is made to converse with, refreshing and honest behind the closed doors of Kurt's rooms. 

Gradually Kurt feels himself start to share the same feelings Athena seems to hold for Blaine, a protective and caring, especially as Blaine reveals more about himself and his family and lets Kurt have the floor to do the same, though that occasion is more rare. 

"How are you doing?" Kurt asks, a month to the day when Athena brought Blaine to him. He doesn't mean in general, and almost laughs when Blaine looks up from his book by the fire with a puzzled expression. "Your injuries," Kurt says, somewhat surprised to find himself hoping Blaine won't say he's entirely healed; as selfish as it is, Kurt isn't ready for Blaine to leave yet, and the revelation isn't shocking at all when he considers Blaine in front of him, face flushed from the warmth of his fire, all of his attention on Kurt.

"Much better," Blaine says, sounding a little hesitant, "still --" he waves vaguely toward himself, "sore. I'll be brand new in a few more days."

"I bought a salve in town," Kurt says, pulling the jar out of his bag, "I know you refused the doctor, but I figured you could apply this to your bruises."

"How do you know I have bruises?" Blaine asks, standing and taking the jar from Kurt, without any protest, much to Kurt's relief. 

Kurt thinks about the glimpses he's caught of Blaine, changing in the morning or heading to the small room off of Kurt's where the tub is, to use the hot water brought up for Kurt after Kurt is finished. (He's learned to take much quicker baths, a hardship he can't find it in himself to mind.) "I've seen them," Kurt says, softly. "This will help."

They are both quiet for a moment and Blaine tosses the jar from hand to hand. Athena is out hunting. The room seems larger and quieter for her absence. 

"Would you --" Blaine starts, "I mean, would you mind helping me with my back? That's where most of them --"

"Of course," Kurt says, maybe too quickly. "I don't mind." 

It feels like both of them are ignoring words, a newer feeling considering how they had both cultivated the past few weeks with words and stories and secrets. Blaine shrugs off his shirt slowly and gingerly, still clearly sore with movement though Kurt catches how he makes sure not to show it in his face. If he inherited anything of the Anderson lineage, it would be strength and will, part of their motto. Kurt opens his mouth to tell Blaine his thought but closes it, throat suddenly dry as he watches Blaine lay down across the room on his bed. 

Kurt expected him to lay down on the furs by the fire but the bed makes more sense, more room for Kurt to move and help cover Blaine's multitude of fading purple-greenish bruises. 

It takes a minute for Kurt to fully settle on the bed beside Blaine, suddenly all too aware of the words that seem to be unspoken between them despite the fact Kurt can't figure out what those words are. 

The first brush of Kurt's hand with the salve over one of the worst bruises along his shoulder blade makes Blaine inhale sharply and press further into Kurt's bed. Something about the sound races down Kurt's spine instead of making him feel concerned, and the next swipe of his hand is less gentle as he works the healing salve into Blaine's skin.

"I want to claim my inheritance," Blaine says after a few more passes of Kurt's hand and Kurt stills against his side. His words are muffled into the furs lining Kurt's bed but Kurt hears the words clearly; words Kurt doesn't think he could ever say himself. 

"As soon as I'm well and I can inspect the lands I'll petition the King," Blaine continues. "I never wanted -- I never saw myself as a Lord, never had to with my older brothers."

Kurt hums to let Blaine know he's listening, both shocked and warmed by the conviction in Blaine's words, so far from who Kurt had met the first night Athena had dragged him up the stairs; so much less bitter and worn than he was then and through the first week. 

"You've shown me that," Blaine says, voice dipped low and tight as Kurt presses his hands along Blaine's lower ribs. "Maybe inadvertently, but I have to be the person I was meant to be. I have to be better than my family."

"You're already better," Kurt says, rolling to his side so he can look at Blaine, "and I think you've always known that."

Blaine doesn't say anything else, lying still on his stomach while Kurt lays next to him.

In the morning Kurt wakes up overheated despite the chill of the air and the stone in the room, Blaine pressed against his side, limbs heavy in sleep where they cross over Kurt's own. 

Athena raises her head from Blaine's other side when Kurt stirs and blinks his eyes open, meeting his gaze with something warm and similarly sleepy. She must have come back from hunting in the middle of the night -- Kurt is unsure what goes on in her head, what makes her do the things she does like protect him so fiercely or bring a man home she should have known nothing about, but somehow he knows the warmth in her gaze is something like approval and as he drifts back asleep he finds he doesn't mind the thought at all.

 

-

 

It isn't planned, though it doesn't feel anything like a shock or surprise. Blaine is mid-sentence by the fire, sharing a memory about the first time he'd beaten his eldest brother in the yearly sword fights, his face lit up by both the memory and the orange lick of the flames, and Kurt leans in and kisses him.

Blaine freezes, a second long enough for Kurt to hesitate and start to lean away before Blaine pulls him forward with both arms around him, pulling them both backwards against Blaine's furs on the floor. 

"I wanted," Blaine says, muffled between Kurt's lips, no words coming after. 

Kurt rolls them over, settling over Blaine's hips gingerly, careful not to hurt him even though Blaine seems to have almost fully healed from his injuries. Blaine groans when Kurt presses his weight fully down. Kurt has noticed his bruises, watched with less carefulness as he's dressed and undressed over the past few days and he knows they are fading, helped along by Kurt's application of the salve, careful and not entirely too careful at the same time, looking for a reaction. 

"Kurt," Blaine says, tugging him down closer and rolling his hips up, at least half-hard through his linen pants, though Kurt has been hard for hours, just thinking about this, wanting like he has been for longer than he'd care to admit. "You're --"

"Yes," Kurt agrees, cutting off the rest of Blaine's words with his mouth pressed fully over Blaine's lips. Though they have built up to this on a foundation of words and conversation and truth, Kurt would much rather feel and show Blaine what he's been feeling, and the movement of their bodies together feels just as easy as their conversation and at the same time just as honest. 

Blaine gets them both off with a hand wrapped loosely around both of their cocks, Kurt sitting bent over his lap with Blaine sitting up against the stone wall behind him, biting and licking at the low dip of Kurt's collarbone as he grinds out low, dirty noises there that rush over Kurt's skin like touches. 

After, they curl up in Kurt's bed, and when they wake up in the morning it's even better than the first time, something Kurt lets himself admit quietly and sleepily to himself that he could get used to, that he's wanted without knowing for a long time.

 

-

 

Kurt is happier for a week than he ever remembers being over the past few years. Even Athena seems to be happier than Kurt remembers her being, hunting nightly and sleeping through the days, only awake when Kurt and Blaine are talking near the fire or sprawled out on Kurt's bed.

Kurt kisses along the back of Blaine's spine with his fingers inside him as Blaine shakes and comes, a book long forgotten under his knee when he collapses and rolls over, hungrily pressing kisses against Kurt's mouth and then dragging his lips down over Kurt's chest, his nipples and hipbones before his mouth sinks down over Kurt's cock. 

It isn't a surprise, after, when Blaine speaks, pressed against Kurt's side in mutual sated exhaustion. 

"I'm well enough to leave," Blaine says, muttered softly against Kurt's jaw. 

Kurt knows he is, knows intimately so. "You're safe here," Kurt says back, entirely selfish. 

Blaine drags his lips up to Kurt's cheek and over to his lips, his kiss familiar already but not nearly familiar enough for Kurt's taste, not familiar enough that he can leave so soon. 

"I know I am," Blaine says, "but I know I need to leave and see the lands and figure out what happened and what needs to happen."

Kurt swallows and pulls Blaine closer, selfish again, though Blaine doesn't seem to mind; curling up against his chest and relaxing against Kurt's skin, every part of him warm and right. 

"I should leave in the morning," Blaine says softly. Kurt shakes his head before he can help himself.

"The day after tomorrow at least," he says, "we can get you leatherwear and a good weapon and supplies." 

Blaine nods against him but doesn't say anything more, kissing him again and then rolling over him to press his hips down in a languid motion, and later Blaine rides him, pressing slow above and then hard and relentless when Kurt pulls him down and closer. 

 

-

 

Kurt, true to his word, gathers things for Blaine through-out the next day as he goes about his daily duties, setting them up in his room when he gets a moment to stop in. He does so several times throughout the day and each time Blaine pulls him close, distracting him with his mouth and his hands until Kurt is expected to be somewhere else and entirely reluctant to leave at all. 

That night, knowing Blaine must leave in the morning, Kurt fucks him slowly above the furs and blankets on the bed, the air icy around them but melting into sweat on their skin -- they both take their time, feeling every motion, every stroke, and it feels like much more than it should after so little time. It feels entirely right, like something Kurt didn't know he was waiting for until he realized he found it in Blaine. 

"Blaine," he says, sounding raw and broken to his own ears when he comes, and Blaine echoes him with a soft "Kurt" before they fall asleep, tangled against each other as if they might meld together and never have to leave.

 

-

 

The morning rises gray and cold, the start of winter not yet in full blast. Kurt leads them both to the back edge of the castle's private lands, the lands that lead out to the town road and then further to the wastelands that bleed back into Blaine's lands. 

They spend several minutes that feel far too short and much too drawn out all at the same time, pressed against each other with Athena circling them as the light rises.

"I have to go," Blaine says, a needless explanation, "not to avenge my family, but to protect what is left of my people."

Kurt reluctantly steps back from Blaine's embrace and tugs on the straps of his leather chest plate. "I don't mean anything political by this," he says, "but you know my father would petition the king to absorb your lands or split them with some of the other lords if you asked; we have boundless resources and men."

Blaine nods. "I know," he says, "I have considered that. I think first I need to see for myself, though." 

Kurt understands, but it doesn't make Blaine leaving any less hard. 

"I think I know what Athena saw in you when she brought you here," Kurt says, just as Blaine starts to turn away to leave. He turns back around, staring at Kurt with a sort of open affection that makes Kurt's chest feel hollow and sore. 

"You do?" Blaine asks, soft, barely audible. 

Kurt nods. "I do," he says, "and I would have saved you too, given the chance." 

Blaine steps close again and draws Kurt into a kiss, lingering and warm. Athena nips at both of their ankles before it can draw out too long and Blaine leans away with a low laugh. "I'll be back," he says, pressing his lips to Kurt's jaw. "Wait for me?"

"I will," Kurt agrees, a small smile creeping onto his face. "And if you're gone too long I'll send Athena after you to drag you back."

Blaine nods, reaching down to scratch behind Athena's ears before he finally turns away. 

Kurt watches him leave, watches him fade into the growing light in the distance and reaches his hand up to his lips only when he can no longer see Blaine's silhouette on the horizon. War may be coming, he knows, and he has even more reason to be frightened of it than before, but somehow he feels stronger, more ready to meet the future and his inheritance than ever before.

Athena nips at his wrist to get his attention after a while, as the cold fog of winter's morning comes rolling in and he shakes his head at her. "I know it worked out this time," he says, "but please don't bring anymore men home."

She growls in a playful way and Kurt runs his hand over her coat. They turn away back toward the castle at the same time, both with lingering glances over their shoulders before they step inside. "He'll be back," Kurt says, mostly to steady himself. Athena nudges his side in what feels like agreement and trots up the steps ahead of him, whining when Kurt takes too long staring out over the horizon. 

He laughs at her and follows her into the castle and up to her room where they both curl up on his bed. When he wakes up again he'll have planning to do, planning and waiting, and he's looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Original LJ post date: 8/11/11.


End file.
